


In the Place Where You Started

by Iki_teru



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Identity Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 22:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iki_teru/pseuds/Iki_teru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selphie, Traverse Town, and memories that may or may not be hers. Genfic. Allusions to FF VIII</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Place Where You Started

Selphie can’t smell the ocean anymore, that’s what finally wakes her.

The world is not as she left it; there is no salt in the air, no sand trailing across her bed (there is no bed, she realizes as she looks around the alleyway) and everything reeks of unfamiliarity. This place is cool, distant, and a little sleepy in ways her islands could never be. 

There are no answers to be found in the dark little alcove she’s woken in; with nothing else to do she wanders. She’s barefoot and that, she realizes, is the problem with being whisked away in the middle of the night: you’re likely to be in your pajamas (the good ones, at least, with a top and a bottom and they _match_ so small favors there), asleep, and without shoes. 

She finds a boy standing under a street lamp, he won’t give his name but he tells her she’s in Traverse Town. “It’s where Lost Things go,” he says, his face so squashed with different feelings (anger and loneliness and frustration, to name a few) that Selphie feels a responsibility to cheer him up.

“Like all the socks that disappear into the dryer?” He shoots her a look and she wonders if there are dryers _or_ socks where he comes from (or jokes, for that matter). 

He tells her to go to the Accessory Shop, that there will be someone who can help her get settled. Only, she doesn’t _want_ to get settled, she wants to go _home_ but this nameless boy is not the one to voice that desire to. She trudges up the stairs, holding tight to the railing because Selphie has had bad luck with stairs in the past. 

There’s a man standing beneath the glow of the Accessory Shop sign. She’s hit with such a sense of familiarity that for a moment, she can’t breathe. The man can though; he’s talking in a low, quiet voice. He introduces himself as Leon but Selphie tastes a different name in her mouth when she looks at him; one that tells of magic, gunpowder, and academy halls. She doesn’t speak it, tries to swallow the letters and quiet the train whistle in the back of her mind. 

Leon tells her to come with him; he’ll find her a place to stay. She nods and he mistakes her silence for fear. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’ll be safe here.” 

She follows behind him like a lost puppy, studying the line of his shoulders. “I dreamed you,” she says. “Only you were younger,” she considers him for a moment with a tilt of her head, “or perhaps I was older.” 

He glances over his shoulder at her, his eyes softened by mere degrees. “Or maybe a bit of both?” and Selphie thinks that it was entirely possible that he dreamed of her too. 

Leon takes her to a little one room kind of house that looks kind of shabby and smells like seven years of dust. “This is one of our safe houses,” he explains, “you can stay here until we find something more permanent for you.” 

Selphie tries not to cry at that thought, of being here for any length of time to require something permanent. 

She gives him all the information she can, about where she’s from and who else might make it through. He writes it all down in a careful script that’s too familiar considering she’s never seen it (in this life). 

He’s just getting ready to leave and let her get settled when Selphie can’t stand it anymore and blurts, “Squall.” Leon gives her a strange, unreadable expression as she trips over her words to say, “Are you happy this time?” 

There’s an awkward moment of silence. Selphie thinks perhaps she’s overstepped some sort of boundary. She’s just in the middle of practicing her apology (“I’m sorry, that was rude. Being thrown into another world seems to put me out of sorts”) when he finally speaks.

“Maybe.” He looks at her funny and instructs her to get some rest. 

That night Selphie dreams of travelling with blue eyed lions and fighting and sacrificing her memories for power.

-

The lady, Aerith, has to lend Selphie some of her old clothes because really, one set of pajamas does not a wardrobe make. “Don’t worry,” says Aerith of the kind green eyes, “we’ve been here for a while. There should be plenty to choose from.” 

There is, but that doesn’t really help the knot of dread in the pit of Selphie’s stomach. _we’ve been here for A While._ Privately, she wonders how long A While is and when do you finally give up hope of getting Back Home. She picks a selection of dresses in various shades of blue. It’s not her color, and it makes the islands feel even farther away. 

Selphie worries that she’s losing something again. 

The sun never seems to quite finish rising in Traverse Town, it takes Selphie several weeks to finally learn the difference between day and night. In that time she’s become well acquainted with the more out going citizens of the town (as in, mostly Squall and the people in his direct circle). 

She becomes fast friends with the ninja girl, Yuffie. Most of the mornings seem to be taken up with the two of them swapping stories. Only Yuffie’s tend to involve a lot more pointy bits than Selphie’s, and if they’re not telling tales then Selphie’s trying to talk Yuffie out of some stupid stunt or another (juggling kunai while balancing on the sharp peak of the Accessory Shop, for example). 

It takes her a while to figure Yuffie out. She seems to have something against people’s given names and refers to everyone with oddball endearments like: _Ponytail_ (Aerith) and _Sour Puss_ (Leon) and _Old Man_ (Cid), then she starts calling Selphie _Sunshine_ which might be the strangest of all (but it does seem to help Selphie find her smile). 

Afternoons she tries to help Aerith with her gardening. Aerith grows a lot of pretty flowers and she can tell Selphie about nearly all of them, but she also grows things like carrots and potatoes and invites Selphie to dinner every night. This is nice because Selphie never just assumes she’s welcome and it makes her feel a little wanted in this strange, lonely place. 

Somehow, and nobody is quite sure what stars aligned to let this happen, she gets along best with the mechanic Cid. He says he likes her because “you’ve got a sunny disposition, which we need more of ‘round here. But don’t you tell nobody I said that.”

Selphie thinks it’s just because she has a knack for reading schematics and her hands are tiny enough to fit into places he can’t reach and he never has to worry about her stealing something just because it’s shiny, she knows how important a good set of wrenches is (even if she shouldn’t). 

There’s a lot of avoiding Leon after that first night. Yuffie tells her not to worry, that he’s always that prickly with everyone. Selphie can’t help but feel it’s because she’s caused him to remember things he shouldn’t. 

-

One day she sees Riku, just a glimpse of him as he rounds the corner, and she’s so shocked into remembering this isn’t actually home that she forgets to shout after him. By the time she gathers herself back together he’s disappeared completely and nobody in Traverse Town can remember seeing a boy that matches his description. 

She bows out of dinner that night; choosing instead to sit in her room and try to remember how blue the sky is over the island, how the air tastes, and the ocean sounds. Everything’s grown faint, a photograph left too long in the sun, she can’t even blame it on Quetzalcoatl this time around. 

-

It turns out she and Leon can’t avoid each other forever. They end up crammed into the same room of a building that needs some heavy repairs. Not that Selphie’s _allowed_ to do anything involving a hammer, or saw, but she can sweep and fetch things and when the room is finished, she can paint. 

Leon doesn’t talk, just stands on a little ladder while he adjusts things and fixes things and helps make the place inhabitable again. Selphie sneaks quick glances at him, trying to fit the hard edges of this not-stranger with the person she remembers best.

“Have you seen anyone else?” It takes Selphie a moment to realize that it’s _her_ asking the question and Leon is staring down at her in just as much surprise. 

“No.” He takes a seat at the bottom rung of the little ladder, drops his hammer against the wall, and asks “you?” 

Selphie feels kind of terrible for bringing it up; she shakes her head and stares at her toes. She’s already come this far so she figures she might as well go for broke. “Do you ever miss them?” Which, if she’s honest with herself, isn’t truly what she wants to ask. But she feels strange enough holding this conversation without changing that to us. _Do you ever miss us?_

“Sometimes,” says Leon. No, says _Squall_. “Like when the heartless are bad. Yuffie’s a good fighter, but she lacks any kind of training and I have to watch out for my own head more often than not.” He shifts a little in his seat, regarding Selphie with that far away look she’s growing familiar with. “What about you?” he asks, “do you miss them?” 

“It’s hard to remember them,” she admits. “When I do, it’s normally because something happens. Like, Tidus will see how many hot dogs he can cram in his mouth and I’ll think of Zell. Or, Kairi will get fed up with Riku and Sora being goofballs and roll her eyes in such a Quistis way.” She smiles a little, thinking of her friends, _all_ her friends. 

“Sounds like you were happy there.” 

“I was.” Then she starts crying, because she really _was_ happy on the islands. It wasn’t Balamb Garden by any account, it was a different kind of happy and now she may never see it again.

Squall can’t really handle tears, he leaves for a bit and comes back with two cups of hot cocoa and deigns not to comment on her little outburst. Selphie is appreciative enough of this to not say _thank you_ and ruin the effort. 

-

Yuffie , Aerith, and to a lesser extent Cid, presents her with two little wooden bangles both painted a bright yellow. “It’s your favorite color, right?” asks Aerith. Selphie’s too speechless to say anything so she just nods, slipping the bracelets onto her right wrist where they clatter together merrily. 

“Knew it,” chirpes Yuffie, “you’re _such_ a yellow person, Sunshine. We wanted to make you a dress but fabric is kind of a sketchy deal right now. So we had to bully old grumpy face here into helping us make _something_ for you. Will you smile more now? _Please_?” She drapes herself across Selphie’s shoulders, nuzzling against her cheek and generally giving Selphie ridiculous faces that make her laugh loudly. 

The bracelets clash horribly with all her borrowed clothes (clothes which are somehow becoming Selphie’s, she tries not to think about that) but she wears them faithfully every day. 

When she sees Squall he’s wearing something that passes for a smile on his face. She can’t help but be a little suspicious about _where_ exactly they had gotten the idea of yellow from. Selphie doesn’t have to ask him anything, he seems to pick up the meaning behind her quirked eyebrows. He just offers a shrug and says, “Your pajamas were yellow. It was fairly safe to assume some things hadn’t changed.” 

-

It turns out she’s a little closer to home than she realizes when Yuffie babbles about the key wielder, Sora. Sora. Sora from Destiny Islands. The same Sora that Selphie tripped with her jump rope, put ribbons in his hair, and convinced him to be the fairy godmother in the school play. _Sora_. It turns out he stops by Traverse Town once in a while. She tries to keep her excitement contained, they warn her that he doesn’t come by very often, but still he’s a link to home and she can’t help but want something honestly familiar instead of distantly so.

He does stop by not long after that conversation. Selphie’s so overcome with joy that she screams and throws herself into his arms. He hugs her awkwardly with a stuttered “S-Selphie” which makes her think that maybe he forgot about her, but she’ll let it slide. He _has_ been busy saving the world. 

There’s a new angle to Sora’s shoulders, a certain firmness to his smile that Selphie recognizes from another lifetime. It’s the signs of a warrior, but he manages to hold on to the light in his eyes which is always the tricky part (so Selphie hugs him extra tight a few times). 

Sora asks if she’s seen anybody, which she knows is code for _have you seen Riku or Kairi_ and she lets that slide too. She thinks of that brief flash of silver she once saw, but decides it’ll do Sora no good so she answers as honest as she can, “no one.” He looks a little disappointed, brushes it off, and squeezes her hand.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “if they’re out there. I’ll find them.” 

She believes him too. 

-

Somehow, the temporary little safe house has become _her_ house. Selphie’s place, they keep saying. As in “Hey, let’s head over to Selphie’s place to wash off this heartless muck, she lives right around the corner!” Actually, that’s normally only Yuffie so it’s generally “hey, let’s head over to Sunshine’s place to wash off this muck and see if she’s figured out the stove yet!” (She hasn’t, by the way) 

Which is kind of okay with her, she starts decorating it with little things. Aerith gives her a tiny pot that’s growing daisies and she puts it in the windowsill. There’s still a fabric shortage so she goes without curtains, but she likes to let what little sunlight Traverse Town provides in, so she just gets dressed in the bathroom. 

-

It’s still a little scary when the heartless attack. Selphie’s secretly glad she hasn’t been caught alone with them yet, but she worries about Squall and Yuffie being out there doing battle. She convinces herself she can still fight like she used to, in that past and fuzzy lifetime that belongs to a different version of herself.

Squall doesn’t seem to be sold on it though. “Stay in here.” 

“I can help!”

He looks her over once, actually considering before deciding against it. “No way, you’ve forgotten too much.” He’s gone with a slam of the door. 

It’s childish, once upon a time she would have disregarded the notion; but she’s a different person in this life, similarities aside, and she has something to prove. Selphie gives them a five-minute head start before bolting out the door after them. Aerith shouts after her and probably gives her own chase, but Yuffie taught Selphie all the short-cuts through the district and she has no doubt she can find them before Aerith finds her. 

Fighting with a jump rope is nothing like using nunchaku. It pains her to admit it, but Squall may have been right. Of course, this bit of insight doesn’t come until she’s knee deep in heartless and she realizes that sparring against her friends does not a warrior make. 

The heartless, Yuffie called them Shadows, lunge in an unorganized group at her heart. Selphie barely has time to shield her chest, the Shadows leaving deep gouges in her arms. She thinks _this is it_ and _I’ll never see everyone again_. 

She is just on the verge of giving up when a fireball explodes in front of her, driving the Shadows far enough away for someone to scoop her up and run back to the safe house with her. Selphie clings to Squall’s neck, breathing in smoke and leather and she is so happy to be alive she just might cry again. 

That, of course, is before Squall starts _yelling_ at her. Only, Squall never really yells, just paces back and forth like a caged lion grumbling under his breath. 

“Irresponsible, childish, impulsive.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Stupid, dangerous.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You could have died out there.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Selphie. You can’t pull stunts like this; we might not be there to rescue you next time. Is this how you want it to end, survive the darkness eating your world only to fall to the heartless because you wanted to play SeeD?” 

“I wasn’t playing; I honestly thought I could do something to help.” Her eyes are stinging and there is a knot in her throat. “I have all these memories that don’t belong to me, they belong to Selphie Tilmitt and I’m not her. I know that, I grew up on an island where there’s no such thing as magic and I’ve never even been on a train. What about _you_ , Squall? Aren’t _you_ playing SeeD too?” 

He leans into her personal space, a very un-Squall like thing to do and she can see a muscle in his neck pulsing. “I’m doing what’s needed to survive. I didn’t choose this life. Stop trying to bring back something you’re not and enjoy this chance to be _normal_ for once.” 

Aerith enters and that seems to be the end of Leon’s patience. He doesn’t quite slam the door as he leaves and Selphie doesn’t quite cry as Aerith heals her arm. “There’ll probably be a scar,” says Aerith. She touches the three slashes crossing Selphie’s arm gently. “But I have some salve that should help with it. I’ll send Yuffie with it later.” 

When later rolls around Selphie locks herself in the bathroom with the shower on. She can hear Yuffie shout at her, inane things probably meant to cheer her up. Selphie doesn’t come out of the bathroom until an hour passes. After Yuffie gets tired of waiting and the water runs icy. 

-

Selphie starts avoiding everyone. It’s not a conscious decision, not really. She’s just tired a lot lately, it’s so much effort to get up and go out. She leaves her bracelets on the table, shoved into the bottom of a basket of stale bread.

Left to her own devices she begins to drift; no longer Selphie Tilmitt of Balamb Garden, no longer Selphie of Destiny Islands. Eventually she starts getting up to clean, pulling her hair back with a blue ribbon from one of the dresses. She wonders if, maybe, she can hold onto the person she’s becoming this time. 

Days inch by; her excuses to stay away become weaker and weaker. She convinces the bakery to let her help out in the shop; cleaning, taking orders, and refilling the display case in exchange for old breads. It’s not much but it keeps her stomach from growling.

-

Sora is back, banging on her door and shouting loudly for her. She flings the door open, expecting him to tell her someone’s dead or dying or maimed beyond recognition. Instead, she gets a hug, a pick-me-up-and-spin-me-hug that helps pop a few vertebrae while they’re at it. 

“I saw Riku!” Sora practically squeals, “Right here, in Traverse Town. Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” 

She blinks, trying to catch up with his babble. “I...I didn’t know. Where is he now?” 

He waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the Third District. “I don’t know, he got distracted by something. But he’s _here_! Hey, maybe you guys can hang out!” 

Something feels wrong, Selphie hasn’t been out much but everyone in town knows the descriptions of her friends and not one person has mentioned seeing Riku. She gives a tight lipped smile and a little bobbing nod that seems to do more in distracting Sora than reassuring him. 

“Hey,” he says, “are you feeling okay?” 

_Do you remember how the ocean smells, Sora? Do you remember the feel of sand beneath your feet?_ She swallows her words and puts more effort into her smile. “Fine.” 

“Good, come on. Aerith sent me to get you for dinner.” Sora takes her hand, tugging her along gently. If she closes her eyes she can imagine they’re back at Destiny Island, playing a game. 

“S-Sora, no. I can’t.” Selphie tries to brace herself against the doorframe, the ribbon in her hair coming loose.

He looks back at her, puzzled. “Why not? They seem pretty worried about you.” 

“They are?” 

“Of course they are. They’re your friends, right?” 

Sometime while Selphie was drowning in her self imposed isolation they had been forced to move safe houses. The new place is hardly larger than her own, located just inside the Third District with a wide window right in the front where she can see everyone. 

Aerith is standing at the stove, stirring something in a large pot. Selphie can see a streak of flour in her hair, it’s kind of charming actually. Yuffie is sitting on top of the table, swinging her legs and talking animatedly to Cid, who’s trying to ignore her (and failing) and work on something small and shiny. Leon is standing against the back wall, arms crossed, taking in all the people he’s chosen to protect. He looks up briefly, locks gazes with Selphie and gives a tiny nod of his head. 

It’s as close to a smile as she’s going to get from Leon. She squeezes Sora’s hand, still clasped in her own, and they push the door open together. 

“Hey, Hero and Sunshine are here!” Yuffie slips off the edge of the table, throws her arms around both of them, and stays that way for a majority of the night. They fit awkwardly on the couch, balancing bowls of potato soup on their laps between bites of hot ham and cheese sandwiches. 

Conversation manages to stay conspicuously light with Yuffie at the reigns. She teases Donald a bit from across the room while Selphie is absorbed in a story told to her by Goofy. There’s a little talking cricket perched on Sora’s shoulder with a little miniscule journal and it takes a surprising amount of effort for Selphie not to cuddle everyone in the room because really, _too cute_.

Selphie and Sora volunteer to help wash the dishes. There might be a bit more splashing than washing, but it gets done eventually. Aerith sneaks up behind Selphie and wraps her in a tight embrace. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she whispers before releasing the younger girl and moving across the room like nothing ever happened. 

Cid stops her right before she leaves for the night, “I ain’t gonna sugar coat it, kid. I need to install something in Sora’s ship so he can get on with his adventures but it’s kind of delicate and I’ve got crab claws for hands in this kinda situation. Think you could drop by the shop tomorrow and give an old man some assistance?” 

“I get off work at six; I can stop by after that.” 

“Yuck, you’re _working?_ But if you need munny you know we’ll help you, Sunshine.” Yuffie cuddles up against her, nuzzling against Selphie’s cheek and making silly kitten-like noises. 

Selphie giggles, “I know. I’m not doing it for munny, it’s just nice to be busy. You guys always do so much for me, I feel like I’m under foot just hanging out all day.” 

Leon abandons his perch long enough to come over and study her with a serious expression. “You’re being careful?” 

She nods, smiling at him timidly. “I am, Leon, promise.” 

He gives one quick nod, accepting her answer. “Sora, see the kid home. Selph, if you need anything you know where to find us.” Leon ruffles her hair a little, gives her a miniscule smile, and turns away to do something on the other end of the house. 

-

Cid’s workshop perpetually smells of oil and sawdust, even if he doesn’t have a project on the blocks. It’s a scent Selphie finds weirdly comfortable and she’s almost disappointed when it’s time to call it quits for the day. But she wants to see Sora off, it’s not often one gets to stick their hand inside a rocket and then watch it blast off while carrying a childhood friend with it. 

Sora gives her a great big hug, not quite pop-your-vertebrae worthy but close, and babbles on about making sure Riku eats and visits with her, all the while Donald and Goofy load the gummi-ship in the background. 

She smiles and nods in all the right places, eventually having to give Sora a little nudge because Donald is threatening to leave without him. 

Gummi-ship take-offs are surprisingly anti-climatic. Selphie and Cid stand around, one smiling happily and the other glaring at everything he can as if the world has personally offended him. The ship makes a low whirring noise and then _poof_ the engines are lit and it’s up, up, and away. 

“Do you ever miss it?” Selphie asks. 

Cid has enough sense to remove the tooth-pick he’s been viciously chewing on. “Flying? All the damn time, but at least I still get to _make_ em fly.” He pats one of the gummi shells sitting outside his shop affectionately and ambles back inside. 

-

Irvine Kinneas walks into the bakery and Selphie drops a whole tray of biscotti on her foot. The noise is loud enough to startle him into looking over the counter to see what caused the ruckus. He smiles amiably at her, tips his hat to her and says, “Alright there, miss?” 

She nods mutely, waiting for the light of recognition to grace Irvine’s expression. What she gets instead: another hat tip and an order for two honey rolls. Then he’s gone from the store, just like that. 

-

It’s probably the first time she’s actively sought Leon out. She finds him alone in the little safe house he claims as base, cleaning his gunblade with a kind of single-mindedness that makes Selphie trip over reality and think she smells the floor cleaner they used in Balamb. 

“He doesn’t remember me,” she doesn’t specify who, just flops down on the couch next to Leon. “Irvine’s here, but you already knew that didn’t you? Because it’s like, part of your duties to get everyone settled.” 

Leon neither confirms nor denies this; he merely goes on cleaning his gunblade. 

“It’s kind of funny, you know. He was the only one who could tell all of us that we grew up together last time, and this time there’s not so much as an inkling of remembering me. But you and I remember, and we sacrificed so much of our minds.” She folds her hands over the arm of the couch and rests her head upon them. She had thought she might cry, but instead of that hot prickly feeling behind her eyes, she feels only a depthless sense of mourning. 

Leon sets his gunblade in its case, snaps the latches shut with barely a sound. Selphie tries to focus on that, how a man can manage to be so quiet all the time. It’s soothing, like thinking of a cat walking across snow. 

“I was only fifteen when we arrived in Traverse Town,” says Leon, “I saw Rinoa here, she was older than me by about ten years. I recognized her, I _remembered_ her, but she had no idea who I was.” 

“That’s when you became Leon, isn’t it?” 

“That very day, yes.” He regards her with an empathetic expression. “What will you do now, Selphie?” 

She sighs, stretching to bide time. “Not much I can do, is there? I mean, I suppose I could start being all moody and go by some other name, but what would I use? We’re not big on surnames on the Islands, I could use part of Tilmitt, I guess, but who would I be? Tillie? That just sounds ridiculous.” Selphie pulls her knees to her chest and tries to give Leon a smile. “I guess I just try to move on. I’m not Selphie Tilmitt this time, and there’s no reason he should remember me, he’s never _met_ me.” 

“Come on," he says, "we’re eating out for once.” 

Leon doesn’t mention another thing about their conversation. 

Traverse Town has one notable (in Yuffie’s opinion, trust worthy) restaurant, a little café in the First District. Tables inside are crowded and really it’s too warm, so Selphie and Leon take their dinner to the little outdoor patio. They see Aerith and Yuffie and Cid, already three fourths of the way through their own meal, and they sit down at an adjacent table. 

“Leon, you waited for me didn’t you?”

“I figured you’d see Irvine at work and seek me out, or I’d find you after your shift to break the news to you.” It’s probably one of the nicest things Leon has ever done and Selphie thinks she can like this man just as much as she liked Squall. 

The two of them make quite a sight, a girl barely in her teens and a man well into his twenties breaking bread together. Conversation drifts after Yuffie and the others leave, but it’s a companionable kind of silence. Except for the little scuffle that occurs when Selphie tries to steal a fry off Leon’s plate. Turns out, he’s _very_ territorial over his side dishes, a fact that Selphie commits to memory lest she get a fork in the wrist next time. 

-

The head baker- a man named Pompidou who seems to be in constant motion and is often spitting things in a language Selphie doesn’t even pretend to understand- thrusts a bag at her with instructions to deliver it to a little hat shop at the far side of the Second District. Selphie eyes the bag warily, subconsciously touching the mostly-healed claw marks on her arm and thinking of her promise to Leon and how very far away that hat shop really is. 

“If you do this I’ll promote you from a volunteer to an employee.” Pompidou tries to smile, an expression that does not look remotely natural on his expansive face. 

It’s not like Selphie needs the munny, Traverse Town works a little strange and she doesn’t owe anything for staying in the tiny house. Then she thinks of everything Leon and the others have done for her and how she’d like to at least treat _them_ to dinner for a change as a thank you. 

It’s hard to skulk down an open street; Selphie desperately wants something to duck behind. On the other hand it’s probably _good_ for her that there are no obstacles for her to try and dodge (as in, trip) around. She clutches the pastry bag tightly, trying to let the scent of chocolate and sugar calm her nerves. It doesn’t work, not really, and she’s quietly afraid the heartless will hear the loud _thumpthumpthump_ of her heart. 

The hat shop is barely in view, more of a bright smudge in the distance, when the telltale _hiss_ signals the arrival of her greatest fear. Selphie breaks out in a run as fast as her legs will carry her. There are claws scratching at the hemline of her dress but she doesn’t have the time to try and beat them off. She focuses all her attention on the glass door of the hat shop, willing it to be closer than it is. 

Lucky for Selphie the door open _inward_ , so when she collides with it she manages to propel herself half way across the store front. The pastry bag has gone skidding across the floor, which is fine with her, it frees up her hands to grab the dummy head modeling a ridiculous hat in a nasty green color. She swings her new weapon for all she’s worth; making a solid connection with a shadow that had followed her through the door. 

The heartless pops out of existence without much of a fight and leaves behind a thin film of black dust. Selphie eyes the door nervously, her grip tightening to white-knuckle intensity as more heartless banged heavily against the door. She only just realized there was a man, standing on her side of the door, with one hand still posed on the heavy latch. The man blinks at her with the most ridiculously large eyes she’s ever seen.

“Oh dear,” he says, “all this fuss in the name of tea time.” 

He introduces himself as Tarrant Hightopp and Selphie can’t help but think he’s consistently not there in the head. He smiles politely and makes small talk with her while shadows and large bodies dance in the street. It’s a little unnerving how calm he is, in fact. 

He can, however, make a fantastic pot of tea, which is enough for Selphie to let any eccentricities he may display slide (such as when she asked him about his home and his voice dropped several octaves and the little affectionate lisp he seems carry all but disappeared and he adopted a strange accent and yes, it was a little scary thank you for asking). 

Turns out, he’s also fairly handy in a sticky situation. Selphie has only just begun wondering how she was supposed to get back to work (or back to her house for that matter) when Tarrant returns from making a phone call and begins reciting a ridiculous poem for her (twinkling bats, if you can imagine it). He’s barely seated when he lets out a little twitter of laughter and says, “Oh look, the cavalry is here!” Tarrant jumps up so quickly Selphie wonder how he managed not to sprain something (and yes, that is a little bit of jealousy there). 

Yuffie pokes her head through the door, her face smeared with bits of left over heartless. “You,” she says to Selphie, “are so letting me borrow your shower.” 

Tarrant gives her the munny owed to the bakery and a little satchel of tea. “Take it to that strange man Cid with the terrible vocabulary. He’s not the best but he’ll make you a good cup. And please come back to visit soon.” Maybe Selphie was imagining it, but she thought perhaps he forgot to add _because I am a little lonely_ to the end of that.

 

-

So life in Traverse Town has found a new pattern for Selphie. Mornings are spent dusting and cleaning, which doesn’t really take her that long but it makes her feel grown up. A quick visit with Aerith and Yuffie, and sometimes Cid but rarely ever Leon (who takes his afternoon training sessions Very Seriously, almost side dish serious in fact), then off to the bakery where she now makes a whopping five munny an hour to occasionally run across different districts and deliver treats when the roads are too dangerous. 

She always makes sure to call and ask for an escort now. It’s usually Aerith who answers the phone but she always promises to send one of others her way. Selphie can count it like clockwork; if it’s only ten minutes before the little bell over the bakery door jingles than it’ll be Leon. Selphie likes to think she’s done a very good job of not making an ass of herself in front of him anymore, she doesn’t call him Squall (often) and she doesn’t even tense up when they cross paths with Irvine. 

If, however, half an hour has passed (and this is how it tends to go) then it’ll be Yuffie tripping her way through the door. Travelling with Yuffie for protection is almost as dangerous as travelling alone. Selphie constantly has to guard the various treats she carries because Yuffie thinks of it as her “advanced payment” to snack on a few. 

One memorable occasion an entire _hour_ had passed and Selphie found herself with Cid. She hadn’t realized he was capable of fighting, he wasn’t exactly fitting any particular profile here (and really, with all those cigarettes he smokes she finds it amazing that _breathing_ in and of itself isn’t more of a chore for him) but he was fairly handy with a spear and Selphie decided she was glad he was on _her_ side. 

After work she almost always eats dinner with everyone in the Third District. Once or twice she’s convinced them that a change of scenery would be good for them and they’ve done it at her place (but she still wasn’t allowed to cook after a terrible incident with flaming potatoes. No, she doesn’t want to talk about it). 

One day she wakes up and realizes she can’t remember if the ocean was more blue or green at the islands. She mulls it over for all of half a minute before deciding it doesn’t really matter in the long run. She rolls over and tries to get some more sleep before she greets the day. 

-

She’s just leaving Tarrant’s after a long afternoon of tea and riddles, which turn out to be more fun trying to crack than she anticipated (“can you tell me,” said Tarrant, “why a raven is like a writing desk?” only, neither of them know the answer to that yet) when someone calls out to her. Selphie turns and finds herself in the arms of Sora. He doesn’t spin her around like last time, just holds her close for a minute before taking a big step back and acts like the previous moment didn’t happen. 

For one wild moment she’s afraid he’ll ask how Riku’s been. Which means she’ll have to fess up to the fact that _he is nowhere in all of Traverse Town_ and she would know, Selphie’s been asking so often most of the other residents have gotten to the point of sighing “ _No_ , Selphie” whenever she comes near them. 

He doesn’t ask about Riku. He doesn’t ask how she’s been or anything else. Sora just smiles and says, “C’mon, there’s someone who’s missed you.” 

To say she’s surprised to see Kairi would be a vast understatement. Selphie can’t decide if she should laugh or cry and settles for tripping into Kairi’s open arms. Kairi still smells a little like sand and sea. It’s strange, having Sora and Kairi and Squall (no, _Leon_ and she can’t forget because that’s important) all in the same room. Like having a handful of puzzle pieces and then someone tells you there’s three different puzzles, be careful where you connect things or you’ll make a mess. 

-

They’re not staying, none of them. Sora has stumbled upon their home world, which means it’s still intact. Which means they have a way _back_ and oh, doesn’t she envy them that? She understands why Sora’s running off again, apparently Riku is somewhere on that world, and she gets why Leon and the others are going too. 

“If you’re bringing Kairi, why can’t I go?” There’s a ridiculous amount of uncomfortable shuffling from everyone involved. Selphie stares at Leon, since he’s normally the ring-leader of these types of shenanigans. 

Leon’s the only one who doesn’t refuse to meet her eyes. “The gummi-ship only fits five.” She’s just about to argue _but why Kairi_ when he continues. “Hollow Bastion is her home too, Selphie.” 

Oh. _Oh_. Well then, that’s one of Destiny Island’s great mysteries solved. Maybe they could write poems about it, _once there was a girl who fell from the sky, she fell so fast, fell so hard she forgot the places she came from_. Well no, they wouldn’t use _that_ it was terrible. Selphie never did have a head for rhyming. 

There’s someone touching her shoulder, someone familiar and warm. Selphie blinks, realizes she’s been staring at the floor, and looks up to see Kairi.

Kairi rests her head against Selphie’s shoulder, twines their hands together. “I’m sorry,” Kairi says, “you understand, don’t you?” 

That’s the thing, she does understand. It doesn’t stop her from feeling a little cast aside, a little abandoned, but she does understand. 

“Don’t worry, Sunshine. This is just a short visit. We’ll be back before you know it!” Yuffie plops herself into Selphie’s lap, effectively distracting all of them when she shouts “girl orgy! Ponytail, get your butt over here!” 

-

Part of her wants to sulk and refuse to see them off. But Selphie’s too superstitious not to, and where had she gotten that, she wonders? Was it something they did at the Gardens, always making sure to watch their companions leave until they disappeared on the horizon, or had she picked it up on the islands? (or did it really matter, in the end?) Sora leaves first in his tiny ship of three. They’re all there to bid him goodbye, standing shoulder to shoulder at the edge of the launch area. 

There are no hugs this time. 

Everyone else piles into the other gummi-ship. They _do_ hug, more or less (Aerith does, and Yuffie of course, and Kairi who still smells distantly of ocean water) and then they too are gone. Up, up, and away.

-

They’re gone less than a full day and already Selphie feels depressed. It gets so bad at work that Pompidou takes it upon himself to try and teach her how to make apple pies. This, apparently, is something he considers fail safe. 

She proves him wrong in a fantastic and classic Selphie way. He doesn’t even bother inquiring _how_ she managed to make an apple pie the approximate taste and texture of wet sand. She’s immediately banished from the kitchen but he does let her come up with names for the new confections he’s working on. 

Pompidou and Tarrant become her only escape. She tries to stay away from the little house as much as possible, chooses instead to break bread in every other available location (she gets creative a few times and dines a top the Accessory Shop once). There’s still no answer for Tarrant’s riddles and she’s afraid her ennui is actually _catching_. Which does not suit Tarrant at all, everything about him becomes droopy and his teas start tasting like he cried over the kettles (which, she realizes with a start, is quite possible with Tarrant). 

“Don’t worry,” Selphie says, more to herself than to him, “they’ll be back soon.” And she pretends she hasn’t been counting exactly how many days have passed since they left. (seven and three quarters, thank you for asking).

She returns to the little house that should not be hers to sleep. It’s quiet inside, and she’s let it become a little dusty but she can’t find the energy to care about it. Selphie falls asleep in her borrowed dress (only, it’s been so long it’s hers, isn’t it) and tells herself the dust can keep her company from a time when she wasn’t so lonely. 

 

Selphie can smell the ocean, that’s what finally wakes her. 

The world is not as she left it, there is no lingering dust, no bread crumbs hiding in her bed (there is no bed, she realizes as she looks out at the ocean), and everything is scented of familiarity. Home is a constant whirling of warmth, welcoming, and breathing in a way her sleepy town never could be.

**Author's Note:**

> End Note: Faces that may or may not be a little familiar include Pompidou, the patissier from Ratatouille, and Tarrant Hightopp, the mad hatter from the 2010 Alice in Wonderland.


End file.
